Life had never been that clear-cut perfect.
Scully tightly wrapped in his embrace, both their needs fully satiated, a benevolent nature whispering them lullabies.
A warm breeze brushing their bare skins, patches of blue sky making vivid colors glow, freckles on Scully's pale shoulders and a strand of copper hair over her persistent smile.
No monster on their tails, no rain and mud soaking their butts, no clocks tic-tacking, Scully's gentle regular breath as quiet as his heartbeats.
No dark clouds above and ahead.
He would suspend time and stay in this eternal place and moment. Just the two of them, here and forever.
He would reenact their lovemaking, filling and sparking her with shots of pleasure. Again and again till the death of the Sun.
Or, maybe, just a few days.
Until his brain disease heals.
He could feel it deep in his guts and, quite strangely and barely perceptible, under his skull below his fresh injury.
Deep Valley and its mysteries would reverse his curse, put him right, allow them to start all over again and drive on a straighter road towards…well, towards what Scully would want the most. Because she owned the maps of their private lives and he was just the driver, following and obliging.
Just a few days, feeding on and drinking at the Fountain of Youth. Just the two of them, sinking in and consuming each other's love, oblivious of the fucking FBI business, the rest of the world and the whole doomed universe.
Sure, he so strongly wanted to believe in better days and a happier future he could be blinded by any fake paradise.
Yet, life hadn't been that clear-cut perfect right now and straight ahead, Scully sleeping like a baby cat in his arms.